It's literally a dog house?
by Masked Outsider
Summary: My first fanfic, so please use constructive criticism. Basically, a young and very sarcastic kid has been ordered by the state to be transported to the reservation, as there is a rehibilitation program. Hello Hero, meet Sam! M to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Just for the record….. Twilight is owned by Stephanie Meyers and not by me. I'm making no money or anything else off of this. Also, the situation will make more sense as it goes on.

Please Review!!

Now to the fun!

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Being forced into a seriously hideous purple van that smelled like flat beer and sweat wasn't my main problem. My main problem was where I was being sent, the grand epitome of civilization called Forks. For those that walked into this quiet little village they might think, "Hey! Where has the sun gone?" or "So that's why the people of Forks don't get skin cancer!"

These were the thoughts that crossed my mind when I, half sedated, was driven by a extremely obese man into this little spot of bland grayness. My crime that brought me here, hiding a gun for my friend that his father would probably have used to kill him after he came out of the closet. I myself didn't see the problem, until my parents found the 9mm under my bed.

Reasoning with them and trying to tell them a lie, because my friend doesn't want to be outed to the whole population of the town, didn't work well. And after my friends dear old father's gun was returned to him, I was swiftly sent away to a "rehabilitation" clinic for the "slightly hostile", that's what my moronic parents called it, on a reservation. Which also seemed to be grey, only with a much more rustic feeling. After a few more hours, and a serious need to urinate, I was at my sponsors house. It wasn't great, but considering the other houses I had seen in the area, it might as well have been a luxury hotel.

The fat man, now pushing me out from the van and mumbling obscenities, then unlocked my handcuffs, threw my baggage out the back, gave me very brief instructions, and left. "Fatass!" I screamed at the car, now trying to stretch out the kinks in my legs. Now I'm not as naïve as someone of my age should be, so I know my new….. Guardians probably wouldn't be as nice as I would have hoped. So, walking up to the front door, I simply left my stuff right in front and decided that if I wanted to see the town before my "rehabilitation" phase would start, now was my chance.

So, leaving my luggage, I simply walked away from the house, almost admiring a sign in the yard. It had a man's name, Sam, and maybe someone else's, though it was worn away. I then took a long walk into the town, coming from the direction that I thought the fat man had taken me. But it was kind of scary. If the lack of sun and the debilitating weather weren't enough, There seemed to be some men following me. I, being the great cop show tv hog at my old residence, knew that it wasn't going to be good. Reading the papers, small towns always seemed to have the most bullying and weird crap happen. So all in all, three men with matching haircuts and a "me smash puny outsider" appearance weren't the greatest way to start your day in a sun anemic hell hole.

My only option was clear though, so I bolted, running in between a building and ducking down into a alley, which with my very stunted luck was a dead end. Turning around, I saw them near the entrance to the alley, looking annoyed, though not out of breath. "Damnit" I swore, and then saw one grin. "Well, I guess there's no helping it!" That said I got into a fighting stance.


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing accept my original character.

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The best part about losing a fight is when the three people you were "fighting", if that's what you call getting tromped by three serious steroid users, is when they win and then they go on about which one gets to carry the prize, me, over their shoulder like a dead animal the anorexic chicks in New York and all the other fashion capitals like to wear. I, on the other hand, was just trying to nurse my stomach. One punch, and down I went.

"Paul, you'd just end up doing something stupid and hurting the guy more than you already have!" a slightly innocent tone began only to get cut off by the now identified Paul. "No I won't, and besides, I've got way more experience than you do Seth, so just shut yer' trap." While this debate was going on it appeared to me that the unidentified third wasn't going to let his gaze wonder off of me.

"So much for any escape" I mumbled, now feeling the ability to breath without it hurting. I slowly climbed up the wall, the ingrains of the brick pinching my hands, and got to my feet. At my motion all three turned. It appeared as though Paul was going to take the lead in this little venture, until Seth moved in front of him with far more grace than I could imagine.

"Sorry 'bout that" he began, nervousness very apparent in his speech, "Paul gets a little worked up." He raised his hands in a sign of non hostility and then lowered them, obviously waiting for my reaction.

"No kidding" my voice carrying frostbite within every word. "But if you don't mind, I'm new here and I'm going to be late for my doctors appointment." I put on a sick face, which was easy considering the workout my stomach had just been through, and started to hobble past them. To my surprise none of them made a move as I went onto the sidewalk.

"I thought you said that was him!" I heard Seth growl, yes growl, at someone. "Lemme' check" Paul's voice interjected. I heard a unfolding of paper. "Pictures worth a thousand words, and that was definitely him." Shit I screamed loudly into my head. If it wasn't bad enough that the reservation had a program for the "slightly hostile", turns out they also had what? Like enforcers.

Going into another sprint I went at a slower speed than before, my stomach hindering any and all attempts to do a Olympic gold worthy run. And, as expected, they caught me and now there was no debate on who got to wear me like a pelt. Almighty, and probably thick as concrete, Paul had settled any dispute of who would get to carry me as he gently lifted me up into a fireman's carry over his shoulder.

"Can I ask what the hell you're doing?" my voice still trying to hold a tone of innocence as he and the rest of the do good gang carried me toward the reservation. "

"Well you did try to run, we were warned by the police you might." Seth spoke in a matter of fact way that annoyed me. "But anyway, we only did this stupid program because the elders thought it would be good for the pr of the place. You're the only one we've got though…" He trailed off, a look of thought crossing his face.

"No wonder, if you're the welcoming committee, ya lug." I muttered under my breath. I suddenly felt Paul's grip get tighter. "You should shut up. First you ditch Sam and then you insult Seth. I might have to rough you up a bit before we get there."

I was awestruck. My face obviously showing it because Seth gave a grin and the other unnamed man chuckled. "So, what do you know about me anyway?" I asked harmlessly, it couldn't hurt to know if they had knowledge of my IQ or the like.

"Not much, just your picture and what's in your suitcase. By the way, why would you need condoms? I mean, it's not like you'll be getting any action here." At this, I was severely pissed, not just at Paul who said it, but at the rest of them and whoever else might be there.

"Listen Lurch, I don't know who the hell you think you are but…. Shut the hell up!" I finished lamely. Paul just laughed and continued, "So, what's your name? Only Sam has the real details, said it wouldn't be right for us to invade your privacy."

"Hopper Grant" I spoke, cursing my parents for their choice of a name. To my surprise they only snickered a bit before calming down. Just as I was getting comfortable, the generic named meatheads stopped. Paul then more or less threw me off his shoulder.

"Damn" I yelped before getting to my feet and pulling my sweat stained shirt from my stomach. Neither or the three had shirts on, which was really disgusting. Though they seemed to agree on wearing only jeans cut into shorts and to go barefoot as well. It wasn't a comfortable ride, it was muggy here, and the fact that Paul was like a heat lamp didn't help.

"Hey" I heard a new voice coming from the house I had left earlier. It carried a tone of authority and restraint that was different from the others. I turned, as I did I saw what I did on the other three. He had buzzed hair, like the other three, was ripped, like the other three, and was enormously tall. "Guessing this whole military fashion trend was inspired by you, huh?" I asked, trying to get the last bit of smart ass out before things got messy.

He simply stared at me and shrugged. After a while he started a sentence. "You don't look so dangerous…. How old are you.?" I answered quickly, but still maintained some dignity. "15. And how old are you?" I asked back.

"Old enough. Now come in and I'll tell you the ground rules." I was about to comply, seeing him turn into the house, the screen door wide open, but a hand came out and grabbed my shoulder, spinning me quickly. "Listen" Paul growled, I made a mental note of how easy it was to anger him, "Sam's a real good guy, and if you keep this smart ass routine up I'm going to have to take it out of you by force." His face was hard. He seemed serious, but I should probably test the waters.

"He's great, maybe if they had a rule that do gooders get somewhere in life he wouldn't be standing there looking like a moron in this stupid ass house." This made, like I predicted, him furious. He drew back, ready to punch, but just then Seth and the other wrangled him back into submission.

"I'd shut up" Seth warned. "Sam's one of the most respected guys around here, and if you keep saying stuff like that then it'll get real ugly."

I nodded in understanding and then came up to the house. Jeez, he was the golden boy? I knew we weren't going to get along. He was G.I. Joe to my Cobra commander. I just sighed and entered the house. Things were about to get a whole lot crappier.


End file.
